A Video Response to my Old Revenge of the Sith Review

Update: Disney has released their claim on my video!

EDIT: Disney made a copyright claim on my video. I filed a dispute under Fair Use laws, but we'll see what happens.

In the Meantime you can watch it only dailymotion:
https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x7u8qur


While writing my post on the prequels a few weeks ago, I read through my old reviews for Episodes I and III. As I now completely disagree with them, I decided to make a video rebuttal about them. The first of these (on ROTS) is up now:

Expect a similar video on my Phantom Menace review in the coming weeks...

My Favorite Films: Battleground (1949)

     Growing up I was raised on a steady diet of historical movies and TV shows from Walt Disney's Davy Crockett to The Longest Day to Little House on the Prairie. But the war movies were always my favorite. My brothers and I watched movies like Northwest Passage with Spencer Tracy, The Buccaneer with Yul Brynner and the aforementioned The Longest Day too many times to count. I attribute my life long love of history largely to this influence. As I grew older I continued to be fascinated by military history in particular, and I read as many books as I could find on the subject.

     Battleground is a film I discovered when I was starting to become a real history buff, collecting militaria and getting into historical reenacting, and it could not have hit me at a more opportune moment. One thing that always struck me about personal accounts from war veterans was how dull their experience could be at times. There's a famous (unattributed) quote from the First World War that describes it as "Months of boredom punctuated by moments of extreme terror"and Battleground starkly portrays this facet of war in a way that few films do.

     Written and produced by Robert Pirosh, who would go on to create what is still perhaps my favorite television series Combat!, Battleground has many of the qualities that made that show work so well. Pirosh drew on his experiences serving in the infantry during the war in writing this film, and it is remarkable for its unglamorized portrayal of the day-to-day life of the citizen soldier. Indeed, for a film produced in the late 40's, Battleground is almost singular in it's down to earth qualities. There are here no awe-inspiring heroics nor statements on the glory or futility of war. It's simply a story about men struggling to maintain their composure under incredibly harrowing circumstances.

     A major theme in the picture is the idea that the men on the front lines don't know what's going on, that their part in the larger conflict is obscure to them. Early in the film, former newspaperman Donald Jarvess remarks sardonically, "This is what I like about the infantry. You always know just what's going on." Indeed, there is only one moment in the film where the men of Item Company are allowed a glimpse at the bigger picture, when they happen to encounter the German messengers who are sent to offer General McAuliffe a chance to surrender and get to hear the general's famous reply "Nuts", repeated by one of his staff.

     Battleground also explores the idea of the brotherhood of men in war. When Jim Layton first joins the outfit, he feels like a complete stranger. Listening to the familiar chatter of the squad, from which he is excluded, Layton wanders around the barracks looking for an available bunk. There's an existing community here of which he is not a part. He does, eventually, begin to integrate, largely as a result of the experience he and the others share at Bastogne. He becomes friends with Holley (Van Johnson) the platoon's resident gold-brick and con-man. Holley himself grows a lot as a character throughout the film. Made the new squad leader by a wounded Sergeant Wolowicz, he finds a courage and resolve that he never knew he had.

     Layton and Holley are the two characters who really go through an arc but all of the characters are well drawn and the casting is spot on. Holley's buddy, Richard Jaeckel's Bettis, suffers from combat fatigue and runs away from the front line during the first barrage. James Whitmore's S/Sgt. Kinnie is the platoon's grizzled leader, who guides their rookie lieutenant (played by Brett King) with his sardonic advice, born of hard won experience. The platoon's real leader, Kinnie hides his war weary visage behind a facade of acerbic wit. John Hodiak's Donald Jarvess is an intellectual stuck in a unit of farmers, laborers and slackers. Lacking someone to share an intelligent conversation with (he lost a buddy in Holland), he longs for the days when he was a writer in Sedalia and was the first to be informed of important news. His bunk buddy partner, Abner Spudler (Jerome Courtland), is a country hick who annoys Jarvess with his constant use of the phrase, "That's for sure. That's for dang sure." but who Jarvess, nonetheless, misses once he's gone.

     Douglas Fowley's "Kipp" Kippton is a grumpy cynic whose pair of dentures serve both as a biting means of retort and a potential means of escape (Kippton was once pulled of the line when he "accidentally" broke his dentures). Bruce Cowling's Sgt. Wolowicz is the kind of dependable squad leader every soldier wants to have: humane, pragmatic and deeply concerned for the welfare of his men. Herbert Anderson's Hansan is his most dependable soldier, a man who doesn't hesitate to be the first to move forward under enemy fire but who also leaves his watch set to Springfield, Illinois time as a way to stay connected in his hometown.

     George Murphy's Ernst J. "Pop" Stazak is the image of the citizen soldier, a good natured veteran with a touch of arthritis who just wants who just wants to get back to his wife and kids but is prevented from going home on a dependency discharge (his wife is too sick to take care of the kids) when Bastogne is surrounded. He is good friends with his bunk partner "Johnny" Roderigues (Ricardo Montalbán), a city boy from L.A. who is enchanted by his first sight of snow. Pop's sadness over Roderigues ironic death (he freezes to death after being wounded and left behind on an ill fated patrol) is one of the film's most affecting moments, "He used to see snow, waaay off in the mountains."

     The movie is filled with great little moments and memorable exchanges of dialogue. There's a scene late in the film where a bunch of the men are eating some hot chow outside of the aid station in Bastogne and a woman is seen rifling through the garbage to find something to eat. "I don't even see those things" says Holley, to which Jarvess snaps, "I want to see them! I want to remember them!" In an earlier scene, when Layton confesses his fear in the face of enemy fire, Jarvess tells him, "You just joined the biggest club in the army. Everybody belongs." Certainly though, the best lines belong to Segeant Kinnie, "Me and General McAulliffe decided to move I Company up on the line. That is if you agree."

     To direct the picture the studio selected William A. Wellman, who had also helmed the classic war film The Story of G.I. Joe (1945). As with his earlier film, The Ox-Bow Incident, Wellman makes great use of studio sound-stages to portray the isolation and harsh winter conditions faced by the defenders of Bastogne. Paul Vogel's Oscar winning cinematography, with its foggy haze and atmospheric lighting, really captures the stark environment these men lived in day in and day out. There's one scene in particular that has always stood out to me. In a wide shot we see Sergeant Kinnie, nearly despairing of the prospect of relief ever arriving in Bastogne, resignedly trudge back toward his foxhole, dwarfed by the landscape and the oppressive grey skies. Subtlety, the lighting changes and we cut to a close-up: Kinnie is startled to see his own shadow. The clouds have broken and the Air Force is finally able to drop much needed supplies into the besieged town and to provide its beleaguered defenders with air-cover.

     The ending of the film is also great. As battered men march to the rear, having finally been relieved, they encounter their reinforcements. "What do you want these guys to think, you're a bunch of WACs", asks Kinnie. Not wanting to appear slovenly, they straighten out and take up a marching tune as the fresh troops pass by. The film has almost no musical score, but it kicks in here, accompanying the men's singing. They have not lost their pride, and their loyalty and devotion to each other has never been stronger. It's a perfect ending to a remarkable little film.
   

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Review (SPOILERS)

     Well it's finally over. Disney's misguided attempt to continue George Lucas' saga has come to a close. I didn't see this movie in theaters (hence my late review) but my younger siblings finally convinced me to check it out. I was fully expecting this to be the worst Star Wars movie, but nothing could have prepared me for how baffling bad this was. The amount of incomprehensibly bad decisions that went into the writing filming and editing of this movies staggers the imagination.

     The plot, if it can even be called that, is the stuff of juvenile fan fiction and, at times, borders on parody. The Emperor has returned from the dead (with no explanation whatsoever) and takes over the First Order (which he renames the Final Order) seemingly without any resistance from their current leadership. He has somehow amassed a fleet of star destroyers so vast that the frame cannot contain them all. One might think that our intrepid heroes would be hard pressed to counter this threat, but no, they're own powers have been inexplicably expanded to a degree heretofore unimagined.

     The force projection introduced in the previous installment can now be used by any force user at any time, and physical objects can be exchanged through this medium. What's more, Rey, who is now strong enough in the force to bring down an escaping starship, has discovered how to heal wounds using the force, a skill that Kylo Ren learns almost instantly. We also learn that the two former enemies are a dyad in the Force (whatever that means). Finally it is now definitively confirmed that force ghosts can interact with the physical world, though when and why they choose to do this seems rather random.

     As for the giant fleet, the star destroyers rely on a navigation tower to guide them because "they can't tell which way is up". Taking out his tower proves more difficult then anticipated but, not to worry, Lando Calrisian arrives in the nick of time with a fleet of patriots from throughout the galaxy, one of similarly comic proportions. Since ships can now be tracked through lightspeed, the film also features a chase scene where the Falcon is chased through hyperspace by two tie-fighters (how short range fighters now have light-speed is not explained).

      As for the characters, this film sees them going through the motions once again. Rey longs to discover her true lineage, only to find (again) that it's not her ancestry that determines who she is. Kylo Ren continues to be conflicted, only to turn back to the light on a whim in the third act. Finn is wasted on a side plot and gets no real character development. We also learn that Poe Dameron was a spice runner and we meet his old flame, Zorii Bliss. The original characters show up for their pay check and are regulated to glorified cameos. At this point, with two of the characters and one of the actors dead, it is too late for any meaningful reunion to take place.

     It doesn't help that, oftentimes, the film is edited more like a trailer then a piece of cinema. It opens with a slow-motion action scenes and moves along at a frantic, erratic pace that I, at least, could barely keep up with. The film rarely spends more then five minutes on one location before shuttling our heroes off to the next set piece. Even John Williams score seems lost amid all the frenetic action. It's a mind-numbing experience.

     The original movies and the prequels both have their die-hard fans, most of whom saw the films as young kids and who grew up with each respective trilogy. It's difficult to imagine what it would be like for a young child to grow up with this "trilogy" without having seen the earlier films. Would they be able to follow the plot at all? I find it rather strange that, while Lucasfilm has forged ahead with the intention of focusing on the new characters, these films have relied so heavily on the audience connection the the older movies. At the same time there is almost no reverence for, or meaningful connection to, Lucas' movies.

     When he made Star Wars, the young filmmaker wanted to give young kids a magical experience, like the one he had when watching Flash Gordon as a boy, but also to give his audience something to think about. He hoped, by evoking age old myths and synthesizing various religious and philosophical ideas, to encourage people to reconnect with their spiritual side in an increasingly secular age. 40 years later his legacy is now overseen by a faceless corporation that doesn't care a wit about any of these things and a divided fan base that is more interested in squabbling about canon and coming up with elaborate fan theories then in trying to look for any deeper meaning within the films. Is it really such a mystery that that the movies themselves have become so insipid?

The Prequels Reconsidered

     In my most recent watch through of the Star Wars movies I had a decidedly positive experience with the prequels, films I've treated with disdain on this blog in the past. As Disney Star Wars films have become increasingly terrible I have come to recognize that a big part of this failure lay in the way the movies present themselves as an answer to the negative reaction to the prequels. People complained about the CGI so Disney emphasized their use of practical effects in the advertising for their new films. People complained about the "boring" politics in the prequels so the new films are almost completely free of politics. Many have pointed out that the prequels seem to lack the fun and energy of the originals, so everything in the sequel trilogy is filled with canned humor and characters who are constantly hyperventilating.

     While the new films have been coming out, a lot of people online have been coming around on the prequel trilogy and defending it quite eloquently. For my own part, in doing research for my reviews of Episodes V and VI, I began to gain a greater appreciation for George Lucas as a storyteller. As I considered all of this I came to the realization that all of these complaints about the prequels were really surface level. There was not a lot of substantive criticism, even alas, in my own reviews.

     Story wise, all three prequels work really well, at least on paper. Each one tells its own story while contributing to and building on, the series as a whole. But were they well executed? For a long time I have thought not. My criticisms here largely echoed those of the RedLetterMedia reviews and other prominent critics of the prequels online. What really changed my viewpoint was watching a video by YouTuber and indie comic book writer Rick Worley, which I can't recommend highly enough. In it he dives deep into the many cinematic inspirations for Star Wars and the way Lucas drew on these sources to create his own unique visual short hand.

     I've always known that there were many ways to approach visual storytelling. When I first started to read about film as an artform, I remember reading how John Ford used camera movement very sparingly, so that it would have a greater impact when he did. Similarly, rapid editing can ruin a good action scene, but if it is used intentionally to communicate the chaotic nature of a fight or chase then it works. What's important is how a filmmaker uses the various tools at his command to tell his story and, looking at the prequels with fresh eyes, I can see how well Lucas does this.

     When you really break it down the prequels are really brilliant on a visually storytelling level. In the RedLetterMedia review for Revenge of the Sith, Mike Stoklasa accuses Lucas of laziness, particularly in the way he stages dialogue. But this isn't true at all. Lucas shoots these kinds of scenes using a variety of methods. Scenes like Anakin's conversation with Padme on the balcony are shot in a traditional straightforward style, shot reverse shot. But look at a more dramatic scene, the one where Palpatine reveals himself for example. Here Lucas moves the camera around the actors as they circle each other, heightening the sense of manipulation on Sidious' part.

     In the latest episode of The Gallery: The Mandolorian, producer Dave Filoni (creator of The Clone Wars) talks about the climatic lightsaber duel in The Phantom Menace. He explains what the real stakes are in this scene, and how it is critically important for the series as a whole. "What's at stake is really how Anakin is going to turn out. Because Qui-Gon is different than the rest of the Jedi, and you get that in the movie." When Qui-Gon dies Anakin essentially loses his father figure (Obi-Wan is more like an older brother) and it's only by becoming a father himself, when he saves Luke, that he is finally redeemed. "So the son saves the father and the father saves the son and it works out perfectly. And I draw that line all the way from Phantom Menace to Return of the Jedi. That's the story of Star Wars." This really brought home something I recognized when I watched through the six movies, that there is this cohesive thematic thread, the sense that the six episodes are all a part of what is, essentially, one long movie. This, more then anything, has helped me to appreciate not just the prequels but the saga as a whole in a better light.

     If you grew up liking the prequels and were soured on them because of no-it-all internet critics like me I would like to take this opportunity to apologize. In any case, whether you always hated these films are have grown to dislike them, I would urge you to watch them again and try to put aside whatever preconceptions you may have had about their quality. Try to approach the series like you would The Lord of the Rings, as one epic story divided into smaller chapters. For my part, it was a rewarding, and enlightening, experience.

My Favorite Films: Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi (1983)

     My first real encounter with the Star Wars movies was a conversation with my father. He did not allow my siblings and I to watch the films as he thought it would be too intense for us. Since we were nonetheless curious about them, he one day went over the central plot with us, focusing mainly on Return of the Jedi, as it contains the most important plot points. I remember being stirred by the story he told: of Luke's attempt to redeem his wicked father, his seeming defeat at the hands of the Emperor and Vader's saving him at the cost of his own life. Even at that young age, having had very little exposure to works of fantasy, I could sense that this was the stuff of myth.

     The original trilogy was always about the heroes journey so naturally Luke's story is at the center of this film. The first act, at Jabba's palace, establishes just how far he's come as a Jedi since we left him at the end of The Empire Strikes Back. He wields the force with an almost frightening proficiency, fighting off Jabba's thugs and rescuing his friends with relative ease. He has also learned his lesson, he should have heeded Yoda's advice and not gone after Vader. He was not prepared for the battle physically or, more importantly, mentally. But he's not a Jedi yet. Having discovered that Darth Vader is his father, his faith in the Jedi has been shaken and he must now come to terms with this.

     Throughout the first three films Luke's wardrobe has gotten darker, from white in A New Hope to grey in Empire and now black. His character draws, almost imperceptibly, closer and closer to the dark side. This is, of course, mirrored by Anakin's costumes in the prequel trilogy. Like Anakin, Luke is caught up in a grand scheme he does not understand, one orchestrated by Palpatine. When he accompanies Han and Leia on their mission to Endor he finds himself, like Obi Wan in the first film, drawn inescapably toward his destiny. He must go and confront Darth Vader so as not to endanger them. But Luke embraces this and, unlike Obi Wan who believes Vader to be beyond redemption, he hopes to save his father.

     When Vader brings Luke before the Emperor he is confronted with a no-win scenario: either he can give in to his hate and rage and defeat Vader, giving himself to the dark side and becoming a slave to the Emperor in the process, or he can allow himself to die at their hands, ending the last hope of the seemingly doomed rebellion. He holds out until it appears that all hope is truly lost, when killing Palpatine seems to offer the only chance of victory. This, of course, is exactly what the Emperor wants. In order to kill him Luke must kill his father first and Palpatine will have gained a new, more powerful apprentice.

     He almost succumbs. When Vader threatens to put Leia to the same test, Luke strikes out in angry desperation to prevent this. Yet when he has Vader at his mercy he hesitates. In a beautiful moment of visual poetry Luke looks at his robotic hand and sees in himself the same darkness that lead his father down the path to evil. In the end he chooses to die rather then turn down this path. It's this choice of sacrificial surrender that finally moves Anakin to turn against the Emperor in order to save his son.

     If Empire was about respecting your elders Jedi is about reaching maturity and choosing your own path. By the end of the film we come to realize that Luke was, in a sense, Obi Wan and Yoda's tool. Though motivated by a just cause, they essentially ask Luke to kill his own father in order to restore peace to the galaxy. By rejecting them Luke finds a higher path, and the prophecy of the one to bring balance to the force is finally fulfilled in the reconciliation between father and son. The mythology of the series takes on a peculiarly Christian tone here. It only was in an act of self-surrender that evil can be vanquished once and for all.

     Hamill's acting is at its strongest here, especially in the climax, when his character must rise to the occasion and become the Jedi that he was always meant to be, though in the most unexpected of ways. James Earl Jones betrays a surprising amount of depth and vulnerability this time around, imbuing Anakin Skywalker with a layer of humanity that was only hinted at in Empire. This Darth Vader is a broken man, seemingly powerless to defy his master and save his son and Jones gives easily his best performance as the character. Ian McDiarmid is a revelation as the Emperor. Dripping with seductive menace he provides the film with a lot of dramatic weight and mythic power. As portrayed by McDiarmid, the Emperor is the personification of evil.

     Of course the other characters get their due as well. The love triangle between Han, Luke and Leia is resolved about as definitively as one can be. Harrison Ford may not have been too enthusiastic about returning to the role that made him famous, and he is, generally, a little aloof here but this works, to a certain extent, in the movies favor. This is a Han Solo who has suffered a pretty severe humiliation and escaped only through his friends' efforts. He's been humbled and it's this humility, wonderfully realized in the scene where he confesses his love to Leia (a reversal of the exchange in Empire), that brings his character full circle. Despite being saddled with some unfortunate wardrobe choices early in the film, Carrie Fisher is also able to shine here. Leia shows a more vulnerable side in this film, struggling to reconcile her feelings for both Han and Luke and having to accept that she too is gifted with a sensitivity to the Force.

     Peter Mayhew's Chewbacca, whose hair has grown more and more frizzy with each successive installment, gets more to do here then in any other Star Wars film, essentially turning the tide in the Battle of Endor when he captures an imperial walker. Kenny Baker and Anthony Daniel's continue their role as the series most consistent source of comic relief as R2-D2 and C-3PO. Alec Guinness is as good as ever as Obi Wan Kenobi, who here is revealed to be less irreproachable then we once thought. Frank Oz, in his final scene as Yoda, gives the character a truly moving and dignified death, giving Luke a few last words of sage advice before passing into the force. Billy Dee William's Lando, who was a welcome edition in the last film, is less interesting here but is at least given the biggest part to play in the space battle, where he shows himself a keen strategist. Finally, newcomer Warwick Davis is charming in his scenes with Carrie Fisher.

     The Battle of Endor is easily the best space battle in the series, surpassing Episode IV's assault on the Death Star in it's scope, complexity and visual spectacle. The entire climax could practically be a study in how to do overlapping action scenes. At the center you have the assault on the second Death Star by the Rebel fleet, an assault which depends on Han Solo's strike team taking out the shield generator in order to succeed. This battle has a psychological effect on Luke, who enters his confrontation with his father confident that the rebels will succeed. The revelation that the Emperor knew of the assault before hand, and that Han and Leia are walking into a trap, heightens the stakes: the fleet enters a desperate battle for the very existence of the rebellion while Han and Leia come within an inch of failure in their attempt to blow up the shield.

     Then the battle reaches it's lowest point as the Emperor reveals yet another surprise: the seemingly unfinished battle station in operational and begins firing on the Rebel Fleet. It's only with the help of the seemingly harmless Ewoks that the Rebels are given a fighting chance. While the stakes for the rebels are enormous, it's the personal stakes for Luke and Vader that are the most compelling. By the end their confrontation has become detached from the rest of the action and it's the fate of the characters, and of their souls, that is at stake. Meanwhile, the battle proceeds, its participants seemingly oblivious to the fateful clash going on aboard the Death Star.

     The special effects are some of the series best, with the space battle being a big highlight. The sheer amount of world-building in this installment is really impressive. Ben Burtt's sound design is astounding as usual and the animatronics, puppetry, set design, stop motion and optical effects all combine to create a world that feels fully realized. The set design for Jabba the Hutt's palace in particular is outstanding. The seedy underworld it portrays is very much in the tradition of Mos Eisley from the first film but on a much grander scale. Jabba himself is an absolute wonder of movie puppetry. Designed by Stuart Freeborn and Phil Tippet and inspired by the evil sultan characters that were such a staple of old Hollywood, Jabba is a familiar yet strikingly original creation.

     Each of the six Star Wars films has a unique tone and atmosphere. Return of the Jedi is filled with contrasts (something Lucas loves to do). There's the dingy, seedy underworld of Jabba's palace, the wholesome, naturalistic world of Endor, and then there's the Emperor's throne room on the Death Star. Tonally, theirs nothing in the series quite like the battle of wills that takes place here. Though this series is filled with metaphorical descents into hell, this is the ultimate visual and emotional representation of this idea. Luke must plunge into this hellish atmosphere in order to redeem his father, who has sold his soul and is now trapped in a hell of his own making. It's fantastic stuff.

     William's score is his most thematically and stylistically ambitious of the saga up to this point. The composer combines the returning thematic material from the two previous films with brilliant new melodies to create a complex tapestry which he will continue to expand on in the prequel trilogy. The Emperor's theme, a low register choral piece, is incredibly ominous and even unsettling, suggestive of an ancient evil. It provides a subtle contrast to the driving, unrelenting Imperial March that serves as Vader's theme and each melody fits it's respective character perfectly. A new theme is also introduced for Luke and Leia, as it is revealed that they are siblings here. There is also a new theme for the Ewoks, which is both playful and heroic. All of these motifs are used to great effect and are worked into the film with subtle brilliance.

     The legacy of the series may have been compromised in the years since its release, but Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi remains an endlessly entertaining and creative film and a fitting conclusion to the Star Wars saga.